a/n: Ah well, I haven't beaten FF12 yet, but I read the game script. I'm still sort of flying in the dark though. So if there's something wrong tell me and I'll fix it posthaste. I'm still unsure if it's Judge magister or Judge magistrate. oo
Disclaimer: FF12 and all it's characters belong to the lovely Square Enix organization. Though I wish they would've spent more time on making this game. It was sort of lacking.
A barely audible knock came at Lord Larsa Solidors' chamber door. Larsa rose from his seat and opened the door for his guest. The door groaned and behind it a tall Judge stood with his helmet masking his face. The thick armor and engraved designs greatly over exaggerated his body size making him seem like a fierce demon.
"Judge Magister. I've been waiting." Larsa said gladly beckoning him in with an extended arm. Judge Magister Basch stepped into the ornate room located in a central position in the castle. The room was much larger than Baschs' own quarters only to be rivaled by Larsa's late fathers' room. However, the room was very fitting for the would-be emperor. Basch removed his helmet and held it loosely at his side.
"Is there something I can do for you, my lord?" He said obediently with a slight bow. Having served royalty so long 'my lord' had become a regular phrase in the disgraced Knight's vocabulary. Larsa scrunched his face and walked swiftly to the other side of the room. Larsa kept his back turned to Basch.
"Yes," He muttered to the wall.
"Yes?" Basch inquired. Larsa turned on his heel and looked Basch directly in the eye.
"I've been thinking. Thinking that perhaps I should let you return to service in Rabanastre." Larsa said firmly, staring down the tall man. Basch hid his surprise well. His head turned to the side and he gazed at the carpet that was decorated with the Arcadian sigil.
"I am a stain on Rabanastre's honor, my lord." He said coldly, as he ran his hand down the scar that marked his failures. "My sword lives to protect the empire now."
"Oh yes, I know all of that. It was Gabranth's sword whom protected the Empire. I fear it unfair of me to shoulder you with the responsibility that was his." Basch remained silent. Basch was more than willing to become a judge. He was the one whom had requested it. Yet, it was not common practice to disagree with royalty. Slowly and unsteadily Basch turned towards the door.
"If my lord wishes it…" He said shortly. He kept his teeth clamped tightly. To spend a week among the citizens he had failed too many times. To see their knowing stares, them believing it was him who killed the king. Even if his princess had forgiven him, there was no way he could forgive himself for the lives that were lost because of him.
"Basch." Larsa said to his armored back. "Go to Rabanastre tonight. I shall meet you there in a week." Basch turned his head to look back at Larsa. "For the coronation."
"My orders were to accompany yo-" Larsa waved his hand and cut him off.
"I'm changing them. The decision is yours to make. Stay in Rabanastre a week and decide whether you will come back to Arcadia with me or not." Basch donned his helmet again and gripped the hilt of his sword. He turned after giving a respectful bow and strode of proudly. Larsa stared hard at the empty hallway. Basch had felt more on edge than he had ever seen him. Something was bothering him, tugging at that thin string.
Basch threw his helmet at the tall solid bookcase in his room.His helmet clattered to the floor along with book and a few tuffs of phoenix down.
"Of course I would want to stay here!" Basch yelled to the walls of his solid stone room. "I chose this!" He picked it up and set it on the rack angrily. Piece by polished piece he took off his Judge's armor and put on more inconspicuous clothing. He strapped on his sword and looked at himself in the mirror. He would have to walk across Rabanastre to get to the palace. People would know him, others would not. He just hoped the wrong people wouldn't know the shamed name of Basch Von Rosenberg.
Basch walked for what could be his last time down the Arcadian Palace hallways. His mind was still seething about the proposal Larsa had made to him. Larsa had made it seem that he was not welcome in Arcadia. Perhaps Larsa thought he was not doing a satisfactory job, or a Rabanatrian was not welcomed in the Arcadian military. When he reached the entrance of the Aerodome the guards barred his path.
"Not so fast, punk!" The guard hollered as he placed his hand on Basch's chest. "You need an escort to enter the Aerodome!" Basch stared down at the offending armored glove. He grabbed the hand and began to squeeze until he felt the metal begin to bend around his fat fingers. The other guard grabbed he shoulder roughly. Basch drew his hilt into the gut of the first guard and he hunched over.
"What do you think your doing!?" The larger guard growled at him drawing his sword. Baschs' eyes grew fierce as he held his sword to a weak spot at the guards' armor.
"I'm Judge Magister Basch Von Rosenberg. You should know your places!" He growled. The guard stepped back, sheathed his sword, and bowed low to Basch.
"I'm sorry my lord! We did not recognize you. Please have a safe journey!" The guard blabbered in a respectful panic. Basch let out a frustrated sigh. Arcadians still didn't fully know him, but at least they didn't know him as a traitor.
A senator walked by and scowled at the scene. He continued on his way to the palace. He mind was bothered to see a Judge acting in such a way.
"No…Not just a Judge. I believe that was Judge Magister Basch." The old senator growled to himself.